


Guilt

by Greyality



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Like so much angst, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Hatred, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greyality/pseuds/Greyality
Summary: “Wilbur! What the hell are you just standing there for?”Wilbur stared at Tommy in shock, yanking back the instinctive greeting desperately.He had just met his soulmate. Tommy fucking innit was his soulmate.Fuck.Fuck.There was no easy way out of this one.——Or Wilbur struggles with the realization that Tommy is soulmate, and causes the both of them a lot of suffering in the process.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Comments: 66
Kudos: 486





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is an idea that’s been bouncing around my head for days, and I finally got around to posting it. There are not enough Tombur soulmate au’s in this world in my personal opinion so here ya go!

It took people a while to work out exactly how soulmarks were impacted by the rise of technology. Knowing exactly what someone’s first words to you were was far more complicated with phones. 

Turns out soul words demanded proximity, so, until you were within at least a few yards of someone nothing you said counted.

Wilbur had always been aware of this fact, of course, but it had never really _mattered_. Sure, there had been some disappointment when he and Niki met for the first time and no dark swirling words branded themselves onto his wrist, but he and Niki had both agreed they made fantastic friends anyway.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that he had never met Tommy in person. And it probably would never have occurred to him if Tommy’s loud, rambunctious greeting hadn’t sent a searing pain shooting up Wilbur’s arm.

_“Wilbur! What the hell are you just standing there for?”_

Wilbur stared at Tommy in shock, yanking back the instinctive greeting desperately.

He had just met his soulmate. Tommy fucking innit was his soulmate.

For a moment, everything felt right. Then Tommy’s dad lumbered out from behind the kid and the reality of the situation crashed down around him.

His soulmate was a kid. A sixteen year old kid eight years younger then him that treated him like an older brother. The relief twisted into nausea and Wilbur made a split second decision.

Tommy couldn’t know.

He turned to Phil standing a few feet away, “Why is this child speaking to me?”

Despite the stiffness of the joke Phil laughed and shook his head, “C’mon Will, be nice.”

“Absolutely, not—“ Wilbur clung to the apathy he sometimes used in bits desperately.

Fuck. _Fuck._

  
There was no easy way out of this one.

——

It was a miracle that Wilbur made it through the next few days without saying a single word directly to Tommy. He was lucky they were in a big enough group that it wasn’t too obvious.

That being said: Tommy definitely noticed.

Of course he noticed, the kid was used to being the center of Wilbur’s attention half the time, and Will had never been one to shy away from a joke or fun piece of banter. To be honest, Wilbur was surprised Tommy hadn’t stormed up to him and started shouting about it yet.

But, despite Wilbur’s best predictions, Tommy remained silent. He kept laughing and joking with everyone, showing hardly any outward signs of change. If Wilbur hadn’t already been watching the kid like a hawk he probably wouldn’t even have noticed.

Because Wilbur was watching Tommy, sure—I mean, that was a given Wilbur had just discovered Tommy was his soulmate—but Tommy was watching Wilbur right back.

The number of times Wilbur would glance at Tommy and find piercing blue eyes already watching him was far too frequent for it to be an accident. Clearly, the kid knew something was up and was determined to figure it out.

Wilbur grimaced to himself. It was easy to forget how smart Tommy is, what with the way he jokes around, but Wilbur had been caught off guard enough times that he should have known better then to expect Tommy to let something like this lie without a little investigation.

For the most part—awkward eye contact aside—Wilbur managed to dodge the issue right up until he was saying his final goodbyes. Tommy walked right up to him with a determination that made Wilbur’s stomach churn. Despite still being in a group, everyone was distracted. Wilbur and Tommy might as well be alone.

“So, you plan on actually saying goodbye, or just fuckin ignoring me like you’ve done all week?”

Wilbur winced, avoiding Tommy’s accusatory gaze. His brain spun with ideas of how to get out of this situation without talking. He looked back at the kid and shrugged wordlessly.

Tommy scoffed and shook his head, “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but you better sort it the fuck out, alright? Cause I’m tired of you being a dick.”

He stared at Wilbur hopefully, something in his eyes begging Wilbur to rise to the bait, but Wilbur only nodded, trying to convey as much remorse as he could. Tommy only grimaced in response and walked away, sharing goodbyes with everyone else as Wilbur stood there feeling like a lance and gone straight through his heart.

Wilbur knew this was going to be hard, but he hadn’t expected it to _hurt_ so much. Something in his brain was screaming at him that he was hurting his soulmate—more then that he was hurting someone he could genuinely count as a friend.

The rest of Wilbur’s goodbyes were lackluster, earning a few concerned glances from friends but no comments.

Eventually, everyone was gone except Philza who turned to Wilbur with an expectant expression, “I don’t need to leave until later, and you are gonna tell me what the hell is going on.”

Wilbur swallowed around his dry tongue and tried for a casual grin despite knowing full well there was no getting out of this, “What do you mean?”

Phil only raised a brow and Wilbur crumpled like a house of cards, nodding and gesturing back to his apartment, “Fine, but we’re not talking about it here. Besides, I need a drink.”

The pair made an awkward walk inside, Phil settling on the couch while Wilbur grabbed the first alcoholic thing he saw and two glasses. He plopped down next to Phil and held out a glass, Phil took it slowly, watching Wilbur. Wilbur on the other hand, wasted no time in drinking, only setting his glass down when it was empty.

Phil stayed silent as Wilbur buried his head in his hands, giving a muffled but bitter laugh. He raised his head and looked at Phil, contemplating how he should go about this. Eventually, he figured showing was easier then telling, and he pushed up the sleeve of his sweater, revealing the black words tattooed into his forearm in the scrawl of one Tommyinnit.

Whatever Phil had been expecting this was not it. Surely a soulmate was cause for celebration not whatever the hell Wilbur was doing—and then he read the words. It wasn’t hard to work out who they were said by.

“Shit.”

Wilbur laughed again, this time more genuine and he pushed his sleeve back down, “Yeah, shit is right.”

The puzzle pieces started to fall into place and Phil blinked in surprise, “And that’s why you were ignoring him. You never said any words back.”

Wilbur nodded, grimacing, “Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do? Tommy is sixteen might I remind you. Besides, I’m like an older brother to him. I wasn’t about to shove _hey, we’re supposed to fall in love and spend the rest of our lives together because your perfect for me_ on a kid, Phil!”

Phil reeled at Wilbur’s sudden defensiveness, “Holy fuck, Wilbur that’s messed up shit.”

“I know. That’s why I’m trying to protect him—“ Phil cut Wilbur off.

“No, it’s fucked up that you took away Tommy’s role in how you were going to move forward with this.”

That caught Wilbur by surprise, “What?”

Phil frowned, “Wilbur, Tommy’s not just a kid, he’s your _soulmate_ and you’re his soulmate. He deserves a say in this conversation, don’t you think?”

Wilbur recoiled, “So, what, you think I should have pursued a relationship with, with a child?”

“No,” Phil was quick to correct, “Look, Wilbur. I’m not telling you to make some dramatic declaration of love. Having a soulmate is about way more then romance. Tommy is literally the other half of you. Neither of you can be complete without the other, and you stopping the bond before it can finish? I imagine both of you feel like something’s been ripped out of your chest.”

One of Wilbur’s nervous hands flied up to knead at the space above his heart. Was Tommy feeling this, too? The sickening emptiness that had followed Wilbur the past few days?

Phil answers his unspoken question, “Yes, Tommy’s probably felt just as shit as you do, but he has no idea why and the one person he usually talks to about shit has been ignoring him.”

Wilbur winced and looked away, voice subdued, “I thought it was just guilt.”

He looked back up as Phil sighed, “Guilt about what, Wilbur?”

“My soulmate is a child. What the hell does that say about me, Phill?” Wilbur’s voice was already tinged with self hatred, “And I was _happy_ when I first got the words. Happy that it was Tommy. Happy that I could finally treat him like the most important part of my life. And then his fucking dad walked around the corner and I realized what a piece of shit I was. How’s that for why I should feel guilty?”

Phil was quiet for a few moments, lips pursed. When he did speak, it was delicate and thought out, “Wilbur. While the situation is unconventional, yes, Tommy is still your soulmate. Feeling joy when you first reconnect with the only half of your soul? That’s normal, it doesn’t make you a bad person. The fact that you realized the weight of the situation immediately and tried to protect him—as shitty as that protection was—proves that you’re not some creepy dude whose glad his soulmate is a teenager, alright?”

A small noise a agreement came from Wilbur and he stared down at the coffee table, hand pressed over his mouth.

Phil grimaced, “But you still need to tell him.”

“Absolutely not,” Wilbur said, looking up at Phil, “I get what you’re saying but he’s too young. I’ll... I’ll bide my time for the next two years, only talk to him digitally, then, when he’s 18, we’ll talk about it.”

“Will!” Phil’s voice was sharp now, the older man done with Wilbur’s avoidance, “You and I know all that would do is make you and him miserable, not to mention, Tommy already knows your hiding something from him. Tommy may be a child, but he’s still a person. He deserves a say in his own life, and you and I both know he’s mature enough to handle it.”

Wilbur hung his head, the realization that he really did have to face this finally dawning on him, “Fine. Fine, but not tonight. Tonight—“ he reached out and grabbed the rest of the alcohol bottle waving it between the pair, “—tonight I am getting drunk.”

Phil sighed, but didn’t protest. He’d pushed Will enough tonight. He pushed himself up off the couch, “Well, I have to go. Remember what I said, don’t be a dick, and if you’re spiraling—“ He gave Will a stern look, “—call me.”

Wilbur nodded solemnly, standing and giving Phil a hug before walking him to the door. Once the man had left Wilbur alone in the apartment tension drained from his shoulders.

He grabbed the bottle from the counter. The situation may be shit, but he’d be damned if he thought about it sober.


	2. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur considers how he’s going to move forward and what “soulmate” might mean to Tommy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all were real poggers about the first chapter so I finally got round to a second

The hangover was shitty.

Wilbur couldn’t really complain. It was his fault, and a writhing part of him though he deserved the blinding headache anyways.

After a hellish night of drinking and wallowing, he’d woken up half past 2 in the afternoon to several messages from Phil half of which were concerned, the other half harsh reminders of their conversation last night.

He dragged himself out of bed to get some water and whatever leftovers were smashed in his fridge from the day before. As much as Wilbur wanted to drown in self-pity for forever, Phil obviously wouldn’t allow it so he shoved down the nausea, ate quickly, and fumbled the through taking a shower.

Before he knew it he was staring at discord, Tommy’s green light mocking him.

Soulmate or not Tommy had wormed his way into Wilbur’s support network. More then that, really. If Wilbur was being honest, Tommy was his best friend; someone he found himself turning to on bad days or calling just to soundboard song ideas off of.

Despite his thoughts screaming how bad of an idea it was, Wilbur couldn’t help but want Tommy at his side during all of this. Wanted the comfort of his closest friend while his life was being turned upside down. 

On the other hand, the consequences of having Tommy on his side were nearly as terrifying as the pros. The itching fear that Tommy would hate him or think he was disgusting was rooted in the back of Will’s mind. Peaking up every time he thought about revealing the truth.

Wilbur couldn’t decide what he hated more: pushing Tommy away, or Tommy pushing _him_ away. Both put a sickening pit in his gut.

Maybe... maybe it didn’t have to be like this. Will would have to be stupid not to realize that Phil had made some good points last night—what he was doing to Tommy was certainly unfair, no matter how justified Will feels about it. He wasn’t sure he could stomach pushing Tommy away completely... but apologizing for his neglect, trying to clean up a bit of his own mess? That could smooth the edges of the broken glass currently residing in Will’s chest.

He tapped his hand nervously against the desk and grimaced, clicking the call button before he could change his mind.

The ringing was horrid, but not nearly as terrible as the soft ding of Tommy joining the call followed by silence... and then:

“Hello, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s face contorted even more, regret already bubbling under his skin. It was all too formal, the words, the tone. If ever there was an indicator that Tommy was upset with him—actually upset—then this was it.

He cleared his throat and spoke back, tired and apologetic, “Hey, Tommy.”

A scoff sounded from the other end of the call, “Oh, so I guess I’m worth talking to now, huh? What changed? Can’t see my stupid face anymore and decided you’d stop ignoring me?”

Wilbur winced, the emptiness in his chest only burning brighter now that the fact that he had hurt Tommy this bad was thrown in his face.

“I’m sorry, Tomm—“

“Shut up.”

The interruption was brutal. Far more sharp and serious then Will had ever heard Tommy, and it dawned on Wilbur that he didn’t know how to fix this.

So, he shut up.

Tommy let the pair sit in silence for a while, clearly struggling to put to words what he needed Wilbur to understand. When he finally did speak, it was thick with emotion that only made Wilbur’s guilt and regret pile higher.

“I just don’t understand why,” Tommy cut off with a huff, grasping at words again, “I mean, I thought we were... close—“

Wilbur could have laughed. _Oh we’re close alright... only that’s the problem._

“—so why would you _humiliate_ me like that. I thought,” Tommy swung from angry to pitifully quiet so quickly it sent Wilbur reeling, “Well. I thought you were my friend, but if I misinterpreted—“

Now it’s Wilbur time to slam into the conversation, mind already recoiling at the idea of Tommy feeling so alienated he’d question their friendship, “We are friends. I swear, Tommy. I swear I’m your friend or, at least, I’m trying to be, and I want to be.”

Even without Tommy’s webcam on Wilbur could imagine the face he was pulling. A soft thump sounded through the mic—Tommy slumping forward onto his desk.

“Yeah, well friends don’t pull shit like that.”

“I know,” Wilbur muttered back, voice tired and hoarse from the night before, “And I really am sorry.”

Tommy let out a shaky sigh, “Can we just... go back to normal? I miss you.”

Something twisted in Wilbur’s chest, miserable and unforgiving. _Your fault_ it whispered. _Your fault he feels this way._

“Yeah, uh, yeah we can do that,” Wilbur was quiet for a moment before quietly adding on, “I miss you too.”

Tommy didn’t seem to know what, exactly, he was supposed to do with that, but eventually he settled on a soft “thanks.”

——

Will couldn’t decide if talking to Tommy made everything better or everything worse. On one hand, just hanging out with Tommy, making shitty jokes, and playing games felt like a much needed rest from a week of guilt and hiding. On the other it just reminded Will of how lacking his world was when Tommy wasn’t in it.

It didn’t seem fair that he would have to choose. (An exasperated voice in the back of his head that sounded a little too much like Philza Minecraft muttered that if he would just tell the kid he wouldn’t have to choose at all... he ignored the voice). Why couldn’t he have met Tommy later when this was so much less complicated?

No matter what he’d promised Phil, the idea of approaching Tommy with this mess was detestable, and not only because of the fear of rejection linger in the back of his head.

Soulmates came with so much expectation: romantic, sexual, and otherwise. Wilbur had no interest in letting those expectations hover over their heads like a guillotine, strangling their natural friendship under its weight.

It made his stomach turn. He’d never thought of Tommy... _that_ way before, but now that the idea was planted it wouldn’t leave him alone.

He didn’t even know if the kid liked men; he didn’t even know if _he_ liked men for fucks sake, but all of the uncomfortable questions he’d never bother to ask himself were swimming at the back of his mind.

Will supposed it should be a comfort that the idea of even considering Tommy as a romantic or sexual partner was so disquieting—if anything it proved that he wasn’t completely disgusting—but it did nothing to soothe the nausea that had found permanent residence in his gut.

_What if Tommy wants more?_

He jolted at the thought. If Tommy knew... if he approached Wilbur with that stupid fiery determination in his eyes and asked for more then Wilbur was giving—Will felt his throat try and swallow around a dry mouth—Could he really say no?

He would have to.

Wilbur groaned and slumped in his chain, hands tangled in his hair, at a loss for what to do with himself.

Meanwhile, Tommyinnit had some detective work to do, and he’d be damned if he let Wilbur get away with keeping secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Tommy’s POV!

**Author's Note:**

> As of now this is a one-shot, but if you guys want more be sure to let me know in the comments <3


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